Aftermath
by nine miles to go
Summary: Chris' mother just died after his brother killed her and now he's living in hiding with Victor. Finally he just can't take the loneliness anymore...Will one venture outside in the city turn his world upside down?
1. Teaser

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or the precious Drew (mine!!). Life is SO UNFAIR!!  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------- Teaser ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------- Pink-Charmed-One ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
He'd lie awake at night, thinking of the times that he was so young she'd tuck him in and read him a story. That was a long time ago, though, and it wouldn't happen again. She was dead. But somehow he just couldn't move on...  
  
The feeling of urgency tugged at his gut but he remained perched on his bed, staring out at the window. It was dark, of course; he couldn't open the windows during the day anymore because Wyatt might see him. No, he wasn't in the manor anymore. His only option was to run away if he wanted to survive, and he ended up at his grandfather's again.  
  
He sighed. It was just like it had always been. Leo would yell at him for being imperfect, Piper would do her best to ignore what was happening, and Wyatt would smirk, basking in all of his glory.  
  
The only solution he could think of was to run.  
  
Wyatt said that he was a coward, but he knew better. He was no coward. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. Pain and suffering were all a normal part of life ever since Wyatt had come to power. Oh, how Piper had tried to stop her eldest son from becoming evil once she finally accepted it...but she was too late. There were all too late.  
  
Piper, his mother, was dead, and all he could do was sit and watch.  
  
His tears had been cried, though, long before he mustered up the courage to leave for Victor's. His expression remained blank and emotionless, as it should be. He didn't want Wyatt to know how badly he'd hurt him, that'd only encourage him to do more.  
  
Sometimes he would blame it on others. Leo could've taken the time to teach his younger son to heal, but he took Wyatt instead. Neither Wyatt nor Leo actually came to Piper's aid when she was dying and he called for them. And Piper, his mother, so brave yet so stubborn, thought that she could stop Wyatt and turn him back.  
  
But generally, he blamed it on himself. After all, he was the one that watched her die and couldn't do anything.  
  
Now he sat in the guest room of Victor's apartment, just wondering...What could he have done? What had he done so wrong that made Leo resent him so much and made Piper ignore him?  
  
He didn't hate them, of course. He loved his parents. They just had their...flaws, as he would call them. Piper liked to pretend sometimes that he didn't exist, which was okay. At least she remembered him on his birthday and Christmas and all of the other holidays and made somewhat of an effort to treat him equally. Leo, on the other hand, was another story all together. He had the many scars to prove it.  
  
Not that Leo abused him or anything. No, that would never happen; that, at least, he could be sure of. It was because Leo would never come down to heal him. He'd call and call until his voice was just a whisper and his mother would tell him to go to bed, even though he was wounded. She'd pretend not to notice, as always, and wake him up for school the next morning.  
  
He always felt sorry for his mother. He knew in his heart that part of the reason she ignored his pain was because she was in denial. She had always wanted a demon-free life, where magic didn't come around and screw things up for a normal family. She never got her wish.  
  
He sighed sadly. It was too bad that she was gone, but to tell truth, he didn't really notice the difference. Usually when he was hurt or crying and done calling for Leo, he'd go to Victor's. Victor had always been more like a father to him.  
  
"Are you still up, Chris?" asked a voice groggily, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah...sorry grandpa, I was, uh, gonna get a glass of water and I kind of spaced out," Chris lied hastily.  
  
"Oh. Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
Chris managed a weak smile. "Y-Yeah...I'm just going to go back to bed."  
  
Victor nodded and closed the door to Chris' room so the only light source was the streetlamp from outside the window. Chris reluctantly shut the blinds and fell against the mattress, laying his head on the pillow as the exhaustion overcame him.  
  
Well, maybe he could open up the window again tomorrow...  
  
If he'd live that long. 


	2. Listening

The days were when life was the hardest for him. He pressed his ear to the cracks in the wall listened mournfully outside as his old classmates passed him, wearing the same old grins they wore last week when he had been among them. Didn't they know? Didn't they understand? Last week, magic had been revealed to the world, and yet they didn't think it a threat in the least bit. He feared that the happy and unsuspecting may be the first to go.  
  
"Did you hear about the disappearance?" a solemn voice asked. "Chris Halliwell. He went to our school. He went missing just last week."  
  
"Dunno him," muttered another.  
  
"I did. He sat next to me in math class. Cute kid. Kinda quiet, though, if you ask me. But he was smart."  
  
Chris knew that voice all too well. It was his obnoxious partner in math, Andrea. He longed to scream "I'm right here, guys!" but knew that it would make no difference anyways. They'd just shrug and walk away, pretending that they hadn't heard anything.  
  
"Do you think it's related to —" The speaker lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "That whole 'magic' thing?"  
  
"Maybe...his mother and aunts died in an inexplicable sorta way. I mean, honestly, how often do you find bodies smoldered into ash? I don't think he'd be too pleased if he ever came back."  
  
"I bet you he's dead," said Andrea darkly. "Ran away or something once he heard the news of his family and now he's dead. Maybe he ran into that guy—"  
  
"Lalala, I can't HEAR you!" one of the other girls interrupted. "That magical being that keeps killing people...too creepy. Keep your mouth shut, magic's just wrong..."  
  
The sound of them speaking drifted away as they moved on, headed for the school, where they would spend the day like any other normal teenager would. He sighed and stood up.  
  
"Chris, I've got breakfast ready," said Victor from the kitchen.  
  
Chris stood up and slowly made his way to the sound of sizzling eggs. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad. After all, he and Victor always managed to have a little bit of fun, even if it was just playing cards or board games.  
  
They sat down in silence and chewed the meal.  
  
"Uh, Chris...I think I'm going to have to leave you alone today."  
  
Chris didn't answer. He knew that he didn't want to intrude on his grandfather's life, but he really didn't like the idea of being here by himself. What would he do all day? He didn't speak because he knew that Victor would be able to sense his disappointment.  
  
"I need to...okay, I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to report you as dead. Can you read this spell? You're mother had it in that book thingy of yours. I ripped it out in case it came in handy."  
  
Chris took the fragment of paper out of Victor's hand and surveyed it. The fringe was uneven where it had been torn, and he couldn't help but feel just like that little sitting in a protected book and being ripped away from it with no warning. He stopped himself from thinking and read the spell instead.  
  
"That which hides from wandering eyes,  
  
Make a clone that lives to die."  
  
Chris stared at the floor as blue lights swarmed around his feet. He stepped away from them, and fortunately the lights stayed where they were. A body formed beside him, laying lifelessly on the tile. Not just any body—an exact replica of himself. He jumped away from it, noticing a deep stab wound in its side.  
  
It didn't breathe.  
  
"What are you going to do with it?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"Put on rubber gloves, carry it to an alley and pretend I stumbled upon it. Call 911, all the works...I hope it works."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Victor snapped on the gloves and carried the body out of the room, checking the hall to make sure no one was there. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't leave the room."  
  
Chris remained standing there with a faint outline of a lopsided grin at the comical situation, but then faced the reality of what was really happening. He was alone. Nobody to talk to, not even if he begged...When he was little, he'd never be alone. Just being in the same building with someone was enough to comfort him. But now he was virtually, hopelessly alone.  
  
And the worst part was that he was basically still felt little.  
  
Eventually he couldn't take the silence anymore. He grabbed his jacket in a huff and left the apartment building quickly, not even allowing himself to stop and think of the consequences. He wanted out of here.  
  
The air was cold and sniped at his cheeks. He shivered involuntarily, having heard sirens in the distance. Was it Victor, calling the paramedics after his "body" was found? He shook off the thought and kept running until he found himself in an alley maybe three blocks away. Panting, he leaned on the brick wall behind him.  
  
"Hey!" cried a voice from about five feet away.  
  
It was dark all around him. He couldn't see where the voice was coming from. "Who's there?"  
  
Something shiny and reflective was being held up to his neck. A dagger. He remained still, trying to make out the shape of his attacker, and saw the faint outline of a girl that seemed a little shorter than he was.  
  
"Put it down," he said quietly.  
  
"Why should I? Who are you?"  
  
Chris gulped. "Uh, my name's..." Think, think, think! he thought in his head. "My name is..."  
  
"Spit it out," she snapped.  
  
"Andy," he said automatically. It was the only name he could think of, probably because of his Aunt Phoebe occasionally telling stories of how he and his late Aunt Prue would get in trouble in high school by being "inappropriate."  
  
"Oh." She put down the knife and kept walking deeper into the alley. For some reason, Chris felt compelled to follow.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
  
"Why do you want to know?" she said dangerously, whipping around to face him with a swish of her black hair. "Scared of..." She seemed to relish these words. "Magic?"  
  
Chris scoffed. "I'm not a mortal," he corrected. "You don't scare me one bit." He felt like slapping himself for saying that. So much for laying low! But he looked into those big brown eyes of hers and felt that if anything, at least he'd have SOMEONE to talk to...someone to relate to...nobody had ever been like that in his whole life...  
  
"Oh, I see...Then what exactly are you?" she said slyly.  
  
'No,' he thought. 'No, no, no...' He bit back his tongue and didn't answer. Instead, he changed the subject upon seeing an odd tattoo on her arm. "You're a phoenix."  
  
"Smart one, you are," she commented with a mysteriously glinting grin. "Very smart indeed...Now, answer my question. What are you?"  
  
"Not until you answer mine," he objected. "What's your name?"  
  
She sighed in exasperation. "Bianca," she said after a moment.  
  
"Oh." The sirens stopped. Chris looked around wildly for a moment, then realized that Victor could be back. "Uh, look, I have to go—"  
  
"So soon?"  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, knowing that he should be leaving.  
  
"It's okay...just promise to meet me here tomorrow?"  
  
'NO, NO, NO!' the voice screamed. 'DON'T YOU DARE, YOU'LL RISK EXPOSING—'  
  
"Sure," he answered. "See ya." He orbed away, mostly to impress her.  
  
"A whitelighter?" she asked herself once he was gone. Then comprehension seemed to dawn on her. "No...he must be the mixed breed I've been sent to..." She grinned. "Gee, you're a bad liar...Chris Perry." 


	3. Stormy Night

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, okay! SHEESH!  
  
((()))  
  
Bianca shimmered to her master's lair. "I believe I have found the boy," she reported to him. "The mixed breed that may be a potential threat to your plans."  
  
"Where was he located?"  
  
"An alley out by main street."  
  
"Excellent," said Wyatt, stepping out from his throne so his malicious grin glowed by the light of a flaming torch. "Watch him. Get him to trust you. Tell me of his every move...Pretend to be on his side."  
  
"Yes, Master Wyatt." She paused. "Master...What is the last name of Chris Perry?"  
  
"That is none of your business," Wyatt snapped. "Why would you ask such a meaningless question?"  
  
"Well..." She wanted to tell him that she had seen some sort of odd resemblance between her master and the boy, but then she shook it off. What a silly idea! Her all-powerful master being related to such a feeble creature that did things for GOOD. "I was just wondering, because you only told me his first and middle name. I am sorry, master; it is not my place to ask you such questions." Bianca kneeled before him.  
  
"That's more I like it," said Wyatt. "Now shimmer back down. Wait for him to emerge from hiding again, and this time, find a way to follow him."  
  
"Yes, Master." She shimmered away.  
  
((()))  
  
Chris orbed into the kitchen of the rundown apartment, relieved to find that Victor was still gone. He slapped himself on the head for his stupidity. How could he be so thick as to talk to a complete stranger? Why the hell did he leave his refuge in the first place? But it felt so good to feel the fresh air and talk to someone that understood everything he was going through. Maybe she'd be a part of the Rebellion if he asked.  
  
'Don't get ahead of yourself,' said that stupid little voice again. He sighed. The voice was right; he shouldn't have talked to her in the first place, let alone inviting her into the Rebellion.  
  
He flopped down on the couch and started counting the dots on the ceiling to keep his thoughts from wandering about the girl. Hours passed and Victor had not yet arrived home. Perhaps the police were questioning him.  
  
School should be out. He leaned down and pushed his ear to the crack again, listening.  
  
"That was so freaky," said a girl.  
  
"I know!" another cried. It was Andrea. "The police stormed right into math class to question the teacher, apparently Chris Halliwell is dead!"  
  
There was a sniffle among the posse. "I liked him a lot. He was my best friend...I really...Oh, this sounds silly, but I loved him."  
  
It was his friend Savvy, he knew it. She was a mortal but she, like all the others, knew about magic because it had been exposed. But since she was the only one that had ever come close to him, she knew that Chris was a witch. She knew that Wyatt was the one killing all over the world and she knew that Chris was trying to stop him.  
  
Wait—she loved him. Oh, he wanted to kick the wall! He'd probably never see her again. He was almost jealous of her. She thought he was dead; she didn't have to sit and wait with a burning desire to find him, she thought he was gone forever. But he felt like his heart was being ripped out, hearing her say that and not being able to do a thing about it...  
  
"Aw, I'm so sorry, Sav," said another girl.  
  
"Yeah," said Andrea. "He must've meant a lot to you...You guys used to hang out all the time..."  
  
"I just can't believe he's...he's gone."  
  
Chris stood abruptly, not wanting to listen to it anymore. Then something caught his ear and he couldn't resist but keep listening...  
  
"Yeah, and so is his grandfather," said Andrea. "The police questioned me since I was his math partner and they thought he might be suicidal—"  
  
"Chris was NOT suicidal!" Savvy screamed.  
  
"Alright, alright—but they told me that his grandfather called 911 after finding Chris' body, but when the police came, he was dead too. It seemed really peculiar, they said, like maybe magic was involved," she said mysteriously.  
  
Chris froze. Victor was dead? His mind seemed to swim and he sank to his knees, unable to believe it. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to will himself to wake up and find that it was all a dream. Victor was dead. How could Victor be dead? They had just talked this morning!  
  
There was a clap of thunder outside and the beating of the rain became audible. The girls all shrieked in surprise and departed for home, rain splashing at their feet, but Chris could barely hear them. His eyes and mind were at a complete blank. He felt like he was hollow. Empty.  
  
Everybody was dead.  
  
He closed his eyes again, trying to make it stop, until he fell asleep.  
  
((()))  
  
It was dark when he woke up. He was shivering; it was all so cold. The rain persisted, heavier than before, and the thunder seemed to grumble beneath his feet. It wasn't safe here anymore. If Wyatt killed Victor, then he knew where Chris was hiding. He ran, this time not even bothering to put on his jacket.  
  
He scrambled out the door, just barely avoiding tripping on the rain that had flooded up to his ankles. His feet pounded in the dark, but nobody heard over the thunder and the safe havens of their homes. The city streets were empty and the entire place seemed dead. Dead, just like everyone he'd ever known and loved. Dead, like everybody would be.  
  
Dead, like he would be soon.  
  
He kept running, ignoring his lungs that tore for breath and the rain that still came down at him. A strike of lightning hit the pavement maybe 200 feet away and he shouted but kept going. It was so dark—he could barely navigate himself from place to place—  
  
Finally he collapsed, into an alley miles away from the apartment. He broke down in sobs. He couldn't take it. Why was Victor gone? It was worse than losing his mother and aunts. Victor wasn't like them. Victor was closer to Chris than anyone ever had been...except for Savvy.  
  
He sobbed harder at the thought of Savvy. Would she die, too? How many people would suffer because of him? For once he felt grateful that he didn't have any friends. At least Wyatt wouldn't kill anyone else.  
  
He hugged his knees, trembling in the night. His clothes were drenched and clinging to his skin, his shoes were saturated, and the rain was still falling and drizzling down his face and mixing with his tears. He wanted to die with all of his heart. He wished that Wyatt would just swoop down on him now and kill him before he had a chance to defend himself.  
  
No, that would be giving in. That would make him the same way that Wyatt had always taunted him for being: a coward. He was a Halliwell, he was no coward!  
  
But where could he go now? It didn't seem like there was much left for him. All of his aunts were dead too, along with their husbands and kids. All that remained was Wyatt, Chris, and Leo. Ha! As if he could turn to any of them! And he couldn't go to Savvy. She'd die next for sure if he dared. There was always Magic School...No, that was way too obvious.  
  
After going through the possibilities several times in his head, he decided on one tactic, perhaps his last resort.  
  
"LEO!" he called, his voice drowned out by the storm. "LEO!" He waited for a moment. "LEO! DAD! I NEED YOU!"  
  
Nobody came. There was no reassuring orb to come rescue him, to come take him away to somewhere dry and warm like Leo would've done for Wyatt in an instant.  
  
"Please, dad...Please?"  
  
"You again?" asked Bianca, just entering the alley herself. "Whoa...what happened?"  
  
((()))  
  
I DO like reviews, hint hint. Puh-LEAZ!? Lol. Thanks for reading! 


	4. Haunting Memories

"Nothing," Chris lied, jumping back up to his feet. "What the hell are you doing here?" There was a slight falter in his voice and he hoped she didn't notice. If his mind hadn't been reeling with excuses as to why he was here in the dead of night, he would've more appreciated her delicate features in the dark, sopping wet...  
  
"Walking. Is that a crime?"  
  
"No," he snapped. He didn't know why he was so angry with her, but he didn't want to deal with people right now. Besides, people just died in the end. If they didn't die one day, it could be the next or the one after that or next week...He brought himself back to reality.  
  
"Want to walk with me?"  
  
He stared at her for a moment. What an odd question in such an odd setting—it was sopping rain, he was clearly pissed off, and she was clearly not tolerating his attitude—and she asked him to walk. He kind of enjoyed the unpredictability.  
  
"Okay..." he accepted after a moment. "Where do you live?"  
  
"How about you?" she shot back at him, a little too eagerly. She seemed to draw back a bit.  
  
"I asked you first."  
  
"Alright, I live in an apartment building on main street. It's near the place we met last."  
  
"That's where I live!" Chris exclaimed.  
  
"Really?" she said, equally excited. "I've never seen you there before!"  
  
"That's because...never mind." His face fell but they kept walking, foots in step with the hail and the loud storm.  
  
"It's kind of peaceful—you know, besides the storm. It's cool to be on an empty street without cars or mayhem or busybodies everywhere."  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he agreed, voice sounding vague.  
  
"I live with my uncle. Who do you live with?"  
  
"Uh..." His face seemed to turn red for a moment. "My dad, I guess, but he's never around." He didn't want to tell her the truth and say that he lived with no one because Wyatt murdered everyone he knew. That way she'd make the connection and realize that they were related. He definitely didn't want that to happen—he was getting used to the idea of having another friend.  
  
"That's too bad."  
  
"Not really," he countered. "I don't like him and he doesn't like me. Is your uncle a phoenix?" he added quickly to change the subject.  
  
"No, um, my aunt was a phoenix and he was a witch. Only the women in the line are actually phoenixes."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"Yeah. So, um, you never told me what kind of a magical being you are...Andy."  
  
Chris flinched. "A witch," he responded a bit too quickly. "Just a witch. Kind of like you."  
  
"Right...then how come you can orb?"  
  
"Freak accident with a potion vial, that's all." He laughed a bit nervously. "My family can be a bit reckless with potion vials."  
  
"I can see that."  
  
"Heh."  
  
They walked in silence for a couple of blocks, watching the rain and heading towards the apartment building. Once they got there they said their farewells.  
  
"Bye, ANDY," she said loudly.  
  
Chris flinched again. "Bye, Bianca. See you later."  
  
He closed the door to the apartment and immediately orbed to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. "LEO!" he screamed, the rain pouring down harder than ever before. "LEO, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!? DAD!"  
  
Leo orbed in.  
  
"That's a first," Chris mumbled to himself.  
  
"Why are you calling me?" Leo demanded. "I'm busy!"  
  
"Busy? Oh, sure, busy with what?"  
  
"Contemplating ways to save Wyatt."  
  
"SAVE him? Save him from WHAT?"  
  
"He's obviously possessed," Leo stated simply.  
  
"Whatever, Leo. I'll have you know that my 'possessed' brother just KILLED Victor."  
  
"I'm very sorry to hear that. Now if you'll excuse me—"  
  
"WAIT! Leo, what do you expect me to do? I'm alone. I'm only fourteen—"  
  
"I'm sure that you can take care of yourself, Christopher."  
  
"Leo...don't you get it? Piper, Phoebe, Paige, my uncles, my cousins, Victor—they're all dead! There's no one left! How am I supposed to survive?"  
  
Leo shrugged. "I trust you, Christopher."  
  
"Stop calling me that! It's Chris! Chris Perry! You're SON! You're supposed to help me!"  
  
Leo orbed away.  
  
Chris punched the pillar of the bridge in rage, causing his knuckles to split open. He continued, ignoring the pain. His blood and his tears washed into the rain like they never existed—just like everybody thought Chris didn't exist. Here he was, his brother an evil tyrant, his friends thinking he was dead, his father ignoring him, and no one left to turn to. The only ray of light in the mess of a life he was leading was knowing that there was someone upstairs he could relate to. Someone upstairs in the apartment building he could trust.  
  
((()))  
  
"I know where he lives," Bianca reported, kneeling down to her master. "The apartment buildings on main street."  
  
"Good. Very well done, Bianca. Now, tell me...does he suspect you?"  
  
"No. He is foolishly trusting me now that there is no one left for him. I have lead him to believe that I am against you." She paused. "He also believes that I live upstairs in the apartment building with my uncle. I should go back down there, in case he comes to find me." She looked into her master's piercing blue eyes and prayed that he didn't know that the real reason of her eagerness to return was that she was actually looking forward to seeing her target.  
  
"Excellent." Wyatt stood from the heavy arm chair, the only furniture in the dimly lit room. "You have pleased me, Bianca. You have your master's praise. Now, go back up to earth and wait for him."  
  
"Wait—Wyatt, sir...Who killed Victor?"  
  
Wyatt laughed a deep, yet haunting laugh out loud so it vibrated through the empty room. "I did, of course, you silly girl. That was a personal matter," he said slyly, though not in an offended matter. "I can't have him helping the target, can I?"  
  
Bianca nodded her agreement and bit back her curious tongue. She wondered why they were targeting this certain boy, and why Victor had to die. Was there some sort of a connection between the three of them? Looking back at those eyes she decided hastily that now was definitely not the time to ask another question. With a last bow to her master, she shimmered out.  
  
((()))  
  
--DREAM--  
  
"No, Chris. I will bring him home, just you wait and see! He has to obey me, I'm his mother!" Piper cried indignantly, pacing in the attic.  
  
Chris was shaking in fear. "Mom, you can't summon him! He'll kill us both before we can say a word! Please, mom, don't do this—"  
  
"Chris, you shouldn't be trying to stop me. You don't know Wyatt, you're not as powerful as he is and you just have so much trouble accepting that that you want ME to believe that he's evil. Well listen here, I'm not going to fall for it. You're brother isn't evil and you know it."  
  
He looked at his mother, swelled up with so much pride that she didn't notice how deeply her words and distrust stung.  
  
"Mom," he pleaded, voice straining into barely a whisper, "please believe me. I'm your son."  
  
"And you're sure not acting like it. No son of mine would accuse his older brother of being evil."  
  
Chris' bubbling rage finally got the best of him. "You know what, PIPER? Fine! Summon him! I'm not gonna stick around to watch you DIE!" He orbed away, one last stray tear hitting the ground.  
  
--End of DREAM--  
  
Chris woke up in cold sweat, gasping for breath. He was shaking all over. Everything was so cold.  
  
He looked down and screamed. He was still on the bridge! Why was he here? Oh yes, Leo. That bastard.  
  
The rain had stopped but the thunder was still rumbling in the distance. He knew that it wasn't that cold outside—why was he shaking so hard? He hugged his knees to his chest and realized that his clothes were still drenched to the bone. How long had he been out here? It looked as if the sun was coming up.  
  
It was that stupid dream again. No, it wasn't actually a dream...it was a memory. But in the dream, he wasn't in his body. He was watching himself and his mother argue as if he was a stranger in their midst, looking on from afar. But oh, how he remembered the day so clearly...  
  
He had run away to Victor's and come home to find Piper's body dead on the attic floor.  
  
Not that he wasn't expecting it. The moment he had orbed to Victor's he knew that that was the last time he may ever see Piper again. That's why he always blamed himself for her death. Of course, he warned her. He really did try to talk some sense into her diluted mind, but it didn't work. She blocked him out—and she paid the price.  
  
He shivered again, a chill running up his spine, and hugged his knees tighter.  
  
Why did he keep having these nightmares? 


	5. Never Seen Him

Disclaimer: I'll let you know when Brad Kern "disappears" and I own Charmed forevermore. Toodle—oo! (cough cough.)

"Where's Savvy?"

The voice cut through his mind and he shot up in the apartment bed in cold sweat. What happened? Where was he? Then he remembered last night's events and angrily hit the back of his head on the wall. He'd orbed back to the apartment last night after realizing that he'd fallen asleep on the bridge.

He stood up to listen through the cracks in the wall and winced. His knuckles still hurt from the night before and his throat hurt, probably from screaming so much the night before.

"I dunno. I waited for her at her house to day, but she didn't come."

Chris' stomach lurched. No. There was no way that Wyatt would go after Savvy. She was only an innocent, only a thirteen-year-old girl that had no means of defense!

"I heard she was going crazy." Chris rolled his eyes, immediately recognizing Andrea's voice again. "She couldn't take it after they found the Halliwell kid's body in the alley and she keeps saying he's still alive. At one point she even said that it was Chris' brother's fault. That Wyatt kid."

"You mean that hot kid in high school? Didn't he, like, disappear?"

"Yeah. I guess that whole family's weird," Andrea mused.

"Weirder than you know," Chris whispered. He couldn't hear their voices anymore.

Was Savvy really looking for him? Did she know he was still alive? He'd never gotten the chance to say good-bye to her before he went into hiding. He'd only told her that he could start hiding any day now, but never when. Did she know where he'd go? She'd been at Victor's a number of times. Maybe she'd....

There was a knock at the door and he jumped up in shock. Half-expecting to see Savvy, he braced himself, opening the door to find...

"B-Bianca," he stuttered. "Isn't it a little early?"

"Not really." She let herself in and Chris watched her survey the apartment. "This place is so boring, they make all of the apartments the same."

Chris shrugged. "People are weird. Do you want some soda?"

"Sure. Thanks."

Chris found the pack of soda in the fridge, one of the few items that were left in there. "Here." He gave it to her and they were silent for a moment.

"So, where's your dad?" she asked casually.

"Where's your uncle?" he shot back.

She chuckled nervously. "Alright then, Andy...We can both keep our secrets."

Chris twitched again. She still thought he was Andy. Then again, horrible images of Bianca murdering her uncle filled his mind...the way she was so secretive, she might as well have. But Chris trusted her. At least he was pretty sure he did.

"We don't really know that much about each other, Andy," Bianca noted. "Tell me more about yourself."

"Like what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I dunno...let's start with your age. How old are you?"

"Fourteen," he said simply. "You?"

"Thirteen."

'Just like Savvy,' he couldn't help but think. Savvy. He needed to remember Savvy. Sooner or later she'd find him.

"Okay, then what's your last name?"

Chris nearly choked on his soda. Last name...he wasn't counting on coming up with a last name, too. Suddenly an entry in the Book of Shadows came to mind: Melinda Warren left England and arrived in America in 1654 with her two-year-old daughter, Cassandra. Her descendants include branches of the Grants, the Morgans, and the Marstons...(don't contradict this cuz I got it straight out of the first Charmed book!!)

"Marston," he said suddenly. "C-Andy Marston."

"Cool. My last name's Lynn."

There was a prolonged silence in the room. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" asked Chris after a while.

Bianca shook her head. "No, I was an only child." Then suddenly an idea hit her. Maybe Chris and her master, Wyatt, were related after all. As crazy as it seemed, especially because Wyatt had never mentioned it, she decided to investigate the subject. "Do you have any siblings?"

"One," he responded. "And a cousin."

"What are their names?"

"My cousin's name was Mel. She's dead," he said uncomfortably.

"Oh. What about your brother?"

"Andy" looked at the floor. "I think he's dead." Bianca could tell by the way he winced at those words that it was a total lie.

"Older or younger?"

"Older. And a bastard," he added, mostly to himself.

Bianca giggled. "Sibling rivalry?"

"Much worse."

"Oh." Bianca traced a circle in the dusty floor with her sandal. "What do you like to do for fun?" she asked lamely.

He shrugged. "I like to do some stuff after school...you know, like basketball and swim team. Mel and I used to bike a lot."

"Did you go to the same school as those girls that just passed?"

"Yeah. It's weird, since they all think I'm—they—they all think I've moved," he stuttered. He'd almost told her "since they all think I'm dead," but that would've given him away in an instant. But something told him that he wasn't fooling this girl one bit.

"Ah. That's sucks. So, did you hear that some kid named Chris Halliwell died the other day? He went to your school. Did you know him?"

Chris' heart lurched and he felt himself start to sweat. "Uh, no, I don't believe we ever met."

"Oh really? Because I can't put my finger on it...I mean, you two seem so alike...CHRIS."

"What? What did you just call me?"

"I traced back the school records. You're an identical match to Chris Halliwell," she lied, when in truth she'd been informed by her master. "You either have a lost twin brother or you're the son of a Charmed One and an Elder."

He opened his mouth to object but gave up. It was no use. "Sorry," he mumbled after a moment.

"Don't be. You were only trying to protect yourself. I can understand that." She paused, running a finger on the microwave as if studying the murky reflection of her hand in the appliance.

They remained quiet for a minute. Chris shuffled his feet and Bianca stared at the ceiling. "I should go," Bianca said after a moment. "My uncle...might...uh..."

"Wonder where you are," Chris finished for her. "Sure."

"See ya." She was about to close his door behind her, but she was just too curious. She had to ask, even if it was betraying her master in a twisted sort of way. "Chris...your brother..."

"I don't want to talk about it," he interrupted, staring at his shoes. "Please."

"Right." She left the door, kicking herself for even daring to almost ask, "Is your brother's name Wyatt?"

But she hadn't. She breathed a sigh of relief. Chris' little interruption spared her from betraying her master and violating his trust...that was unheard of in a world of phoenixes.

Besides, who said that this brother of Chris' was Wyatt? That was absurd. Wyatt was all-powerful. Chris was good.

She'd thought about this before, the last time the possibility had crossed her mind. Thinking about Chris being "good" had made her feel angry and resent him before, but this time—well, it didn't seem so bad. But she still preferred evil.

...

"You've been questioning him, I presume. Getting to know him," Wyatt guessed.

"Yes, Master Wyatt," Bianca responded. "I came in this morning. He's told me about his school and admitted his true identity. His favorite sports are basketball, swimming, and—"

"Biking," Wyatt finished for her out of nowhere. "Um, I suppose. I don't really know. I've never seen the kid in my life," he added quickly. "He's a threat, though."

"What's the next step?" asked Bianca carefully.

"Get closer to him. Even romantically, if you must. Gain his trust."

"But how does that erase him as a threat?" Bianca gulped. She had this horrible feeling that she knew what he was thinking.

"When he least expects it," he said maliciously, enjoying the words that rolled off his tongue, "you will kill him."

Bianca felt her stomach lurch. How could she...?

"Yes, Master. Excellent," she heard herself say. She shimmered out.

...

Um...I finally updated!! YAY!!


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